


Wisp

by zabjade



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zabjade/pseuds/zabjade
Summary: Cast adrift and alone, Buffy finds comfort in the forbidden.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 17





	Wisp

**Author's Note:**

> This is one that I thought I'd posted a while back, but apparently didn't. I'm looking through my files to see if I have any other little one shots I forgot.

She doesn’t always barge into the crypt. Sometimes she sneaks, quiet as a mouse, when she knows her… _the_ vampire is sleeping. She drifts through the door like smoke and down to the lower level. Then she just stands there for a while and watches him., his pale form spread out like a starfish under the sheets.

He looks sweet and boyish in his sleep, almost angelic, though not the least bit Angelic. When she sees him like this, she can almost admit to herself that she could love him, if things were different. If she wasn’t dead inside.

She tells herself that she’s going to turn around and leave, that she won’t come back until later when she can lose herself in sex that she can claim is meaningless. As always, though, she takes off her jacket, shoes, and sweatpants, revealing her yummy sushi jammies. Then she climbs into the bed and tucks herself against him.

Her hands drift over him, exploring with the barest brush of her fingertips against his skin. She touches him all the time during sex, but never lets herself just enjoy the feel of him. Cool, smooth skin over well-toned muscles. Soft over hard, like something meant to be petted and loved.

Her eyes flutter closed, but she doesn’t allow herself to sleep. If she does, she runs the risk of not waking up before he does. No matter what, he’ll know she was there, but if she isn’t there when he wakes, she can pretend this is all her shameful secret. Mind blowing sex with a soulless monster is one thing, but cuddles? Somehow, laying against him in her pajamas is more intimate and vulnerable than being naked while he thrusts inside of her.

He shifts in his sleep and curls around her, but she’s done this often enough to know he isn’t really awake. He’s a sleep cuddler, something she finds endearing, though it’s another thing she doesn’t want to admit. He has no soul. He can’t be sweet and lovable. Only creepy and obsessed.

She lets herself bask in the moment, even as she tells herself it’s wrong. She shouldn’t find peace and comfort in the arms of a dead man. There’s something wrong with her. That’s why heaven let her be taken away. Why it hadn’t wanted her anymore. She’s tainted. Wrong.

He’ll know she was there, and she’ll know he knows. But neither one will speak of it, as if it was all just a wisp of a dream. A guilty pleasure that could never truly be.

A few more moments, and she slowly wiggles out of his embrace, careful not to wake him. Then she puts her other clothes on over her pajamas and is soon gone, leaving nothing behind but her scent and the lingering warmth of her body under the sheets.


End file.
